


working on a little job

by inkk



Series: alphabet AU challenge [16]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Paramore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Personal Assistants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:23:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk/pseuds/inkk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>P</b> is for <b>Personal Assistant</b>.</p><p>(In which Pete is kind of a terrible PA.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	working on a little job

**Author's Note:**

> story title comes from the song 'Greenback Boogie' by Ima Robot (bc of reasons)
> 
> enjoy! :)

+

 

Sometimes, Pete wonders if completing four years of business school was just a waste of time and money.

It's not that he despises his job as a personal assistant or that his boss, Tyler, is a bad person - quite the opposite, actually - it's just. Well.

"I can't see myself doing this job in ten years," Pete announces, dropping a plump folder of Important Papers onto Andy's desk with a slap.

Andy - Head Secretary and Resident Scary Vegan at Joseph & Dun Law Firm - gives him the luxury of a disinterested hum, not even bothering to look away from his computer screen as his fingers fly over the keyboard at an astonishing speed.

"No, but seriously," Pete insists, widening his eyes. "I swear, no one in this building is above thirty except for the janitors. There must be, like, an age limit? And then when you reach it, you just disappear the next day."

"You're a terrible PA," Andy tells him. "Go do your job."

"Fine," Pete shoots back, sulkily sticking out his tongue before turning on his heel and walking away. 

He's already thinking about the next place he's going to hide Andy's stapler.

 

\+ + +

 

"I don't envision myself doing this job in ten years," Pete announces, dramatically flopping into an armchair in the staff room.

"Why not?" Hayley asks, pulling her bowl of soup from the microwave and sitting down across from him. "No offence, but you've got a pretty light workload." She crosses her legs. "God knows it's not like you're not making enough money, either."

Yeahhh," Pete drawls, dragging the word out into five syllables, "But it's so _mundane_. I feel like my life is just wasting away," he laments, slinking further down into the chair.

"So then quit," Hayley rolls her eyes. (Pete tends to have that kind of effect on people.)

"I can't quit because then I'll have no _money_ ," he complains.

"So get a new job, then."

"But then I'd have to remake my resume and apply places and go for interviews all over again," Pete whines. He shudders at the mere thought. "Plus, I like my coworkers."

Hayley bemusedly shakes her head. "So then why are you complaining?"

 

\+ + +

 

"I don't know if I still want to be working here in ten years," Pete announces as he waits in line at Starbucks.

Joe yawns. "I don't mind it."

"Yeah, but don't you ever get the feeling you were made to do something better?" Pete asks him. "Like. When I was a little kid, I used to want to be an astronaut or a zookeeper, or something. But now I'm just stuck waiting in line to order overpriced drinks for someone else."

Joe simply shrugs. "When I was a kid, I wanted to be a dog."

 

\+ + +

 

"I can't see myself doing this job in ten years," Pete announces, attempting to launch a paper ball into the blue recycle bin sitting beside Patrick's desk across the room.

It falls to the floor to sit glumly alongside the others, causing Patrick to heave yet another exasperated sigh. "You're not going to be working here in ten years because you're going to get _fired_ ," he rolls his eyes. "You're an awful PA."

"I've been told that six times today," Pete remarks, thoughtfully stroking his chin, "I'm pretty sure that's a personal record. D'you think I should start keeping a tally?"

 

\+ + +

 

In retrospect, staying up until 2AM to job-hunt on Craigslist three nights in a row probably isn't the wisest idea Pete's ever had.

He tiredly rubs his sore eyes, momentarily averting them from the glowing blue light of his laptop screen before returning to scrolling once more - _Courier_ , he muses, allowing the mouse to hover over the link, _Temporary on call positions available for qualified Class 5 and Class G Drivers. Minimum wage._

(Pete's not entirely certain what a Class 5 Driver is. He figures three license suspensions and twenty-five (or was it thirty-five?) speeding tickets probably takes him out of the running, though.)

After a few more minutes of absent scrolling, he finally flips the laptop kid closed with a resigned sigh, setting it on his bedside table and pulling his bedcovers up to his chin before rolling over. He's too tired to jerk off tonight.

 

\+ + +

 

"You look like shit," Andy bluntly informs him the next day.

Pete wonders how Andy actually knows that, seeing as he doesn't look up from his computer the whole time. Nevertheless, he grunts in agreement. "I was up late scouting for jobs in the area," he grumbles.

A slight crease appears between Andy's brows, but he doesn't stop typing. "Are we not good enough for you, Wentz?" he asks.

Pete shakes his head, leaning one hip against the immaculately dusted surface of Andy's desk. "Nah, it's not that. I'm just..."

"Dissatisfied?"

"No, not really. I still like it here."

"Overambitious?" Andy offers, pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. "Self-aggrandizing?"

"Jeez, Hurley, it's really not like you to hold things back," Pete mutters, eyebrows raised. "Anyways, no. None of that. I don't know, I guess I'm just having an early mid-life crisis or something. I probably won't actually do anything about it."

Andy's fingers pause on his keyboard, eyes flicking over to scrutinize him for a split second. "Good," he finally settles on. "It would be a shame if my stapler were to stay in one place for too long."

 

\+ + +

 

"So, I think I might be overreacting about this whole job situation," Pete admits to Hayley the next afternoon. He's sitting on the supply-room counter, idly swings his legs and knocking his heels against the white cupboard doors.

"You're not going to leave, then?" Hayley asks, pulling papers from the mouth of the massive printer. "Hey, have you seen those big black clips around?"

Pete shrugs, tossing her one off the counter. "Probably not. I mean, now that I think about it, I have it pretty good around here." (He leaves out the part about getting drunk and calling his mom three times last night. And then going to a psychic.)

Hayley grins, tucking the thick stack of papers under her arm and reaching out to playfully ruffle his hair. "I'm glad to hear it," she tells him, "It'd be a shame if you left. Patrick's downright awful at gossiping, you know."

 

\+ + +

 

The confused look Joe gives Pete when Pete tells him he 'actually kinda likes being paid to wait in line and order expensive drinks for someone else after all' is one that plainly states _'I'm not awake and/or high enough for this conversation'_. 

"Huh," he eventually nods. "Well, good for you, buddy."

"It is good, isn't it?" Pete grins. "I like Tyler, even if he does ask me to order him weirdly complicated lattes at two in the afternoon."

Joe absently lifts one hand to scratch at his scruffy beard. "So I take it this change of heart means you're not going to go become an astronaut zookeeper, then?"

"Uh, no." Pete shrugs. "I mean, I've pretty much come to terms with the fact that our society needs the little people like us to keep it running, and that some people will always be destined to be in the background."

Joe frowns. "Oh, well. That's too bad. I had a dream about space giraffes one time, it was pretty rad."

 

\+ + +

 

"I've decided I'm not leaving," Pete happily announces, striking a pose in front of Patrick's desk.

Patrick pauses for a second, but he doesn't look up from the papers he's currently highlighting. "Oh."

" _'Oh'_?" Pete mock-pouts, "That's all you have to say to your favourite personal assistant?"

He can practically hear Patrick's eyes rolling. "You're a valuable member of the team, we would miss you, blah blah blah. And you're not my favourite assistant. Joe is. Hurry up and get back to doing..." he waves a hand, "whatever the hell it is that you actually do all day."

Reluctantly, Pete turns to leave, but not before catching a glimpse of the small smile residing on Patrick's face.

It's not such a bad job after all.

 

+

**Author's Note:**

> I THINK I MIGHT REDO THIS ONE LATER.........  
> anyways - thanks so much for reading! any comments and/or kudos you feel like leaving are incredibly appreciated :)


End file.
